Inspector Lynley Mysteries: His Princess
by Kurissyma san Tybalt
Summary: Lynley/Havers. Set some time after the events of Careless In Red. Lynley-centric oneshot.


_**His Princess**_

It had never been Lynley's intention to fall for her. Quite the opposite, in fact.

From the very moment that he had met her, all he had wanted was to find some impossible way to just _get along_ with her- to somehow work productively with the lively and passionate DS- his polar opposite in so many ways. It had been a singularly difficult task, too. The process had involved much work on both sides and the love certainly hadn't come easily. Even now he was finding it hard to accept.

After all, it was all good and well in stories and movies for the nobleman to fall for a working-class woman. She's always mature beyond the expectations of her upbringing, reads as widely as she is able and, of course, is absolutely breathtakingly beautiful- despite her extreme modesty and the quality of not caring at all what she looks like.

In the real world, he had told himself sternly, it was not that simple.

Barbara Havers was not _incapable_ of maturity when it was required of her, but it certainly wasn't in her nature, and her coarse, honest manner wouldn't do at all in the world that Lynley himself had been brought up in. She was too free, too sure of herself, too… 21st century woman. She did not understand his way of life and he was certain that she would make no attempt at all to try. Additionally, Barbara Havers rarely found the time to immerse herself in the world of fiction, as per the cliché of so many romantic fairy stories. And any books that she might be the slightest bit interested in were hardly of a subject matter that would be considered acceptable by his lot anyway. As for the timeless beauty of all fairytale heroines- well… DS Havers was hardly princess material.

Yet somehow, despite her irreparably working-class nature and unpolished manner of speaking, Lynley had come to love her- something that he would have sworn impossible. Somehow. Somehow, it seemed to him, that it really _was_ that simple.

He was in love. Head-over-heels in love. With Barbara Havers.

Barbara Havers: Fan of classic rock and Buddy Holly. Who leaves post-it notes around the place with messages such as "Think about plucking eyebrows tomorrow" and "Remember to clean disgusting toilet". Who eats Chocotastic Pop Tarts for breakfast and honestly believes that the four main food groups are chocolate, sugar, fat and tobacco.

Barbara Havers: His DS. His friend. His confidante and his confessor.

Barbara Havers who doesn't give a rat's ass what the bloody hell anybody thinks about her.

Barbara Havers who swears and glares and smokes like a chimney.

Barbara Havers-

Barbara Havers: The woman who, despite all this, had stolen Tommy's heart. Stolen it and kept it close- holding it so tight that when he was far away- when he'd left the Yard trying to forget about Helen- about everything- he could never forget about her. He had had to come back, or bear with the empty ache in his chest every day for the rest of his life. And it would be the rest of his life, too, without a doubt. He was so deep in it now that to struggle against the hold she had on him would not only be futile but heartbreaking. He was certain that he would die, should it come to having to leave her. No doubt, no fear. Only the honest truth that he had tried to hide from for so long.

He had tried to convince himself that he could deal with it- that he'd get over her, just like he was getting over Helen- but that delusion hadn't lasted long. It had struck him one night, just like that- the sudden, chilling fear, that if he left it too late, she would not want him back. That was what had set him moving. He couldn't let her go and take his heart from him forever. He had to return- had to be with her.

Now, standing in front of his mirror, thinking about how he had come to where he is now, Thomas Lynley is at last whole. As he fixes his bow-tie, slicks back his hair and looks over to his best man for support, he is finally _happy_- happy in a way that is entirely different to anything he has ever felt before.

And he thinks, even if Barbara were to just waltz the aisle in a faded t-shirt and a pair of paint-splattered jeans held together at the hem by a familiar cluster of staples staples- even if she skipped in with her fluffy red hair flopping over her too-small green eyes, smelling a mix between Chocotastic Pop Tarts and tobacco- even if the wedding was a total disaster and everyone had an absolutely miserable time, despite so many months of tiresome planing…

That was okay.

As long as, beneath the faded t-shirt and paint-splattered jeans and the musky scent of tobacco and chocolate and behind the floppy hair and too-small eyes- as long as it was Barbara Havers, then it was all right.

He'd make it work.

In his eyes, she was a princess.


End file.
